Father of Fortune
by TheHyruleFool
Summary: Sarah Fortune meets her father after having grown up for 17 years without ever knowing him.


Sarah Fortune strode into the dingy tavern, spring in each step, coins in her pocket bouncing in sync with her hip. She took a seat up at the bar, sliding one gold and two copper coins down to the barkeep.

"Just one for now, Sam, but I think I'll be here awhile." She said, a full smile on her face. Sam grunted and set a bottle down forcefully, sliding it across the bar to Sarah, the corners of his lips tugging upward for a moment under his thick grey moustache as he swept the coins into his hand. Sarah nodded appreciatively and took a sip from the bottle, holding it on her lap in both hands. She was only a few months into bounty hunting, but she'd found nothing but success. Money rolled in, along with willing volunteers for her crew and people with grudges to settle. She was out searching for someone new almost as soon as she'd returned to the port city with her previous prey.

"Say, Lass, is it alright if I take this seat here? It's a bit shorter, easier on my bones." A man almost as grey tapped on Sarah's shoulder, giving a warm smile.

"Go ahead, I'm not expecting anyone." Sarah turned back to the bar, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"Ach, thankye." He too ordered a bottle, holding onto it with shaking hands as he took a sip. The two drank silently for a while, until both were warmed enough to begin conversation. They moved from the best fish to eat, to the more trustworthy shipwrights, to the weather. Finally, the old man commented what had been tugging on his mind the entire night.

"Yer remindin me of a lass I once knew. Same red hair, same eyes. What was yer mother's name, by chance?"

"Elizabeth." Sarah replied curtly, suspicious.

"Yeah, that wazzer name. What ever happened to her?"

"She had me, no father. We lived nice n simple on the beach, till a pirate raid got her killed." Sarah gripped her bottle so tightly cracks began to appear on its sides.  
"Ah dunno, ye had to have a father, don't everyone?"

"Not one that was ever around."

"N' that mark on yer hand, was that 'er's as well?"

"No, she never told me, but I assumed it was from the bastard that abandoned her."

"Abandoned's a bit of a rough word to say to yer old man's face." Sarah's ears perked up, before she moved far too fast for how much she'd drank. Her hand shot out to the side, grabbing the collars of his equally ratty shirt and cloak, pulling him off the barstool and up against her face.

"What. Did. You. Say?" she growled, eyes clear.

"Ah'm yer father lass." He smiled, mind still infinitely cloudy, not even noticing her aggression. Sarah slammed him against the counter, a quick swipe to the left leaving his head bouncing from the greasy wood. She let him fall to the floor.

"Get out. Now." She dug her boot into his shoulder.

"Yer more of a fighter n' she was." He spat, aware now. Sarah was confused for a minute, mulling the words over in her mind until she understood. She whipped both Shock and Awe from her sides, pointing them down at him.

"Are you saying you raped her?"

"She might'a been sayin no, but she was wet enough when I finally ripped the rags off her." He pulled a knife from his cloak, slashing across Sarah's ankle. She lifted her foot off him, crying out as he stood up.

"Now, yer gonna let me leave, and pay my tab." He held out the knife at her, a closed stance. Sarah didn't respond, between the pain and the terror running through her mind about what he'd told her, she couldn't form words. The only incoherent thought she was able to form was anger, rage. She grabbed her most recent bottle off the counter, standing to swing it in a wide arc, slamming against his head with full force, shattering. Shards of glass embedded in his temple, his ear, his cheek. As he fell, Sarah jumped on top of him, grabbing the knife from his hand and sliding it down his forearm as he screamed.

"You're going to apologize before I cut your balls off." She growled, holding the knife to his throat. He thought for a moment, fear in his eyes. Suddenly, they flashed to outrage, and he spat on her, landing in her eye. She recoiled unconsciously and he kicked her away.

"I wouldn'ta gone to the trouble if I knew I'd have a crazy bitch of a daughter." He grabbed his knife in his uninjured hand, slamming it downward and catching Sarah's side as he staggered, trying to keep his balance. Sarah's fingers reached as far as they could, the tendons and ligaments in her arm stinging, crying out in agony with her wounded side as she finally found Shock, bringing it up and blasting a ball of lead straight into the man's chest. She kicked his sorry corpse off of her, tears in her eyes, and strutted out of the bar. Sam didn't follow her, he was struck silent by what had befallen in only a few minutes. She never payed her tab, or his.


End file.
